


Froyo

by OneSmartChicken



Series: The BAM Club [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Ghosts, Just a bit of fun really, Magical Realism, Mothers Being Badasses, The BAM Club, but complicated ghosts, do you ship them yet, let the silliness begin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneSmartChicken/pseuds/OneSmartChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girls go out for "froyo" and a little bit of adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Froyo

**Author's Note:**

> "Oops it's time for an adventure" was what I muttered to myself as I decided to type this up. I'm not really sure if this qualifies.
> 
> Minor warning for street harassment and women being BAMs.
> 
> Yes I did write these three first parts all in like six hours, no I don't know why I didn't work on one of my actual projects instead of this silly thing.

"I'm bored." Sarah Rogers began the latest cycle of the afterlife with a statement. In reference to her surname, she could, of course, be known by any number of other names, any name she wanted really, but her boy was a Rogers and so she would be one too. Her ex-husband could change _his_ name. Anyway, it was a new "day" in whatever name you cared to apply to their particular version of the afterlife, and Sarah's statement rang true.

Maria stirred with a mumble that sounded a bit like "But I don't like jelly beans," rubbing her face against the silky pillows she preferred; Sarah liked hers to be a soft cotton, finding silk much too slippery for her taste. Oh but Maria did look fine sprawled across the rich blue bed spread, hair a dark halo around her head, a slip of pale cream satin and lace brilliant against her tanned skin. The hair sticking to her lips was charming, in a way Sarah was almost jealous of, but was mostly just glad to be able to see.

Sarah leaned in, set her hands on the bed, which obligingly shrunk so she could lean over Maria, and stated very clearly, "I'm _bored!"_ Maria squeaked, jerking upright, and Sarah let out a yelp as their heads collided. She stumbled back, palm pressed to her forehead, as Maria hissed. Peeking, Sarah couldn't stop a snort at the sight of Maria slumped over, curled into the pillows with her hands fluttering around a red forehead, face creased in a fairly dramatic pout. Maria slanted a glare at her for the snort, the effect utterly ruined by her sleep-rumpled state. Actually, she was pretty damn adorable. Sarah tried valiantly not to smile, and failed utterly.

"What in Heaven's name are you up to, woman?" Maria grumbled, turning over to smash her face back into a pillow. She tended to spring awake when she woke of her own accord, but when woken was rather like a bear, mid-winter.

"Being bored," Sarah clarified helpfully and unapologetically, dropping her hand as the sting in her forehead had already ceased. Surprisingly, there was in fact pain in the afterlife; the main difference between Life and Afterlife, pain-wise, was a disinclination to linger unpleasantly. Although, as the two of them had learned, it could be coaxed to linger _pleasantly._ Ehem. "Get up. Entertain me." She patted at Maria, and then shook her, and then quite firmly shoved her off the bed. Maria managed to fling all of her limbs out in mid-air before taking four pillows and two blankets down with her; Sarah didn't even try to contain her laughter. She had to have a nice sit-down, actually, burying her face in the cloud-like carpet, currently a pleasantly muted brown. Maria glared at her under the bed from the other side of it, blankets and pillows having something of a stranglehold on her entire being.

"I hate you," Maria decided. Sarah giggled. After a moment, Maria groaned and flopped over onto her back, freeing herself somewhat from the confining linens. "Fine!" she announced, in a tone suggesting she was hugely inconvenienced. "If you insist. What do you want to do?"

"Uhhhmmm," Sarah drew out, as she never had in the 30s _or_ 20s. Well, maybe a little in the 20s. Being with Maria was giving her all the best habits, though, truth be told. In their opinions, at least. She flapped a hand at Maria in a sudden burst of excitement, reaching under the bed and managing to catch a few dark curls on her fingertips. Maria laughed at her, tilting her head towards the tug willingly. "Oh, oh! Remember that sign? Frozen--yoghurt? Yoyo, right?"

"Froyo?" Maria offered, smiling indulgently. Sarah grinned.

"Yes!" she squealed, releasing her lover's hair in order to clutch at her hand. "Froyo. I want to try that." Maria laughed again, soft and adoring, and drew Sarah's hand to her mouth for a soft kiss to her palm. Sarah blushed a pleased pink.

"That sounds lovely. A bit of people-watching, and a frozen treat. We ought to try a different city though; wouldn't want to run into our troublesome children just yet, of course." Sarah tilted her head, questioning of the city rather than the children; they had both discussed how often to visit the two of them, and generally agreed on 'not too often.' "We could try Malibu. Tony has a house there, the one he designed. I've been wanting to visit it, and I think I heard Tony say once that California is the place for that sort of thing."

Sarah beamed. "Alright," she agreed readily, waving their linked hands about a bit. "Even if they're not, we can try another place. There's all sorts of things I--we, really, haven't tried."

"I know," Maria murmured, distracted from their impending trip to gaze lovingly at her darling (the pet names were a little ridiculous, but truthful). "And many places neither of us have seen. We'll make as many trips as we like, whenever we like." Sarah returned the loving gaze, squeezing Maria's hand as they just _loved_ each other for a moment.

And then she freed her hand and sprang to her feet, crying out a gleeful, "Time for dress-up! Gotta blend in, Mariposa!" (Sarah adored Maria's childhood nickname)

Maria laughed. "Of course, love," she called as she stood, slower but no less eager, really. "Put on a fashion show for me, would you?" Sarah would indeed, and then some. They got distracted by a pair of short shorts and a bikini top ("Really, modern fashion is a bit fantastic.") and tumbled into bed, where they lounged a while, exchanging lazy kisses and breathy moans and curled toes. Eventually Maria, always invigorated by sex (love-making), climbed out of bed and dragged her giggling lover out after her, and eventually they even managed to put clothes on. Maria settled on a lovely red blouse and a pair of straight-legged, bleached-and-worn jeans with some very modern gold heels, having something of a ridiculous obsession with Iron Man's colors. A doting mother indeed. Sarah happily adorned herself in a faded pink shirt and a fluttery white, knee-length skirt, tucking her feet into a pair of bow-sporting brown and pink flip-flops, which Maria took the time to tease her about. Sarah put her hair up with a scrunchy, which was a very convenient invention, really, and Maria fixed her curls enough for the "naturally tousled" look which was popular and, more importantly, easy.

They linked arms and admired themselves in the mirror.

"Spectacular," Maria decided, looking at her particularly curvy lover.

"Wonderful," Sarah agreed, admiring her rather angular one. They exchanged smiles in their reflection, and then they took a step forward/sideways/back/down/up, moving from Somewhere to Malibu in a blink. They wandered out of a doorway that no one who shouldn't would ever see, and started down a street bustling with happy tourists.

There was in fact a froyo restaurant, although it took them nearly an hour of meandering to find. It was an enjoyable, distracted search, full of laughter and smiles. The boy at the register grinned shyly at them as they admitted to being tourists and examined the options curiously.

"Strawberry and--what's that one? Rum raisin? I think I'd like those two," Sarah decided, after a reasonable few minues, and the boy beamed at them as he scooped.

"Salted caramel and coffee for me, please," Maria requested, ignoring Sarah's eye roll at the predictable _non-sweet_ choice. She handed some of the money the two of them had been _acquiring_ mysteriously, since they learned the trick of 'sidestepping' back into the living world. Sarah had had the brilliant idea of, "After all, lost money must go _somewhere,_ right?" They were dead, and confident the acquisition of money on their parts would do no one harm, so they didn't mind a bit of "magic."

"Have a nice day," the boy called, and the two of them smiled as they took their froyo and their change and padded back out the door.

"He thought you were cute," Maria whispered, grinning mischievously.

"He was looking at you!" Sarah protested with one of her superbly adorable blushes.

Maria giggled and obligingly amended, "He was looking at _us."_

Sarah considered this, and then she giggled as well. "We _are_ very cute," she allowed.

They two walked the streets and ate their melting treat, humming pleasure over the smooth texture and vibrant flavors, exchanging bites and kisses as they pleased. Out in broad daylight, for all the world to see. Both of them had lost most of their fears by the time they reached their graves, and by the time they reached each other, they had lost nearly _all_ of them, saving the protective ones pertaining to their children. Two dead women certainly held no fear to kiss in public.

As well they shouldn't--or perhaps should, depending on perspective, but what could a group of rowdy children (teenagers thinking themselves tough; both women knew the type) do to a pair of ghosts? Very exceptionally little, really. With the sort of husbands and lives they had had and lead, even their barbs were practically laughable.

"Really boys, we've no need of your assistance," Maria tried to be pleasant.

"I ought sit you down and call your mothers," Sarah did not. She planted a fist on her hip and glared, for though she was fairly short and dressed in such a flimsy fey attire, she had always been _that_ sort of woman. It was the sort of thing people overlooked, when she went around smiling angelically and cooing at children, but it was a fact. Sarah Rogers had never been one to take anything lying down, not even the sick that killed her.

"Aaw," taunted one of the boys, although two of them looked almost nervous at the threat. "Are you gonna call our mommies?" A few of the boys laughed, smirking arrogantly at the women.

Sarah pursed her lips, considering, and then she drew herself up, decision made. "Yes. Mari?" Maria immediately smiled and pulled out a cell phone, a pink smart (Stark) phone with a flower-sporting bunny decal on it. "Thank you," Sarah murmured, smiling, and then she tapped the call icon twice, and Maria reached over to turn it on speaker. Sarah smiled a little wider, and then a woman answered the phone with an inquiring greeting. The ringleader of the group went white as a sheet. "Hello, Mrs. Allen?" Sarah inquired, giving the other woman time to confirm. Because it was polite, and so that there would be no doubts as to who was on the phone. "My name is Sarah; I'm here with your son--Tommy, right? Yes, Tommy--" Tommy had not nodded, but the confirmation was found in the fear in his eyes, "And you would not _believe_ the things he's said to me. Tommy, would you care to repeat them to your mother, dear?" She smiled, that perfect cherubic smile, and Maria withheld a laugh.

"Tommy?" Mrs. Allen asked, and her voice was far less pleasant now. She sounded quite on the verge of anger, in fact. "Tommy, what did you say, boy?"

"I, uh, I was just talkin to her, Mama. Seein if I could give her directions or somethin," Tommy hastened to lie. Mrs. Allen made a very clearly disbelieving noise with a hint of threat to it, that familiar _don't you lie to me, boy_ that parents and children alike knew all too well. Tommy looked terrified.

Maria's smile widened as the protective arm around Sarah's waist finally loosened, if only a bit. "He used some words that, as a mother, _I_ would not approve of," Maria supplied, knowing full well that even with his habit for rude language, Tony would never speak like that. "I wouldn't care to repeat them myself, missus."

"Oh? And who are you?" Mrs. Allen inquired, her voice far kinder than for her son.

"Maria, missus," she answered politely, noting the shock in the boys' faces at her admission to being a mother herself. It served them right, treating a woman like that. "Your boy Tommy thought to chat up my dear Sarah and I in the company of a group of his friends. Let's see, they are--"

"No, no, no!" all the boys immediately spoke up, which was really very silly of them. Honestly, did they think Mrs. Allen was a fool?

The outraged noise on the other end of the phone turned six teenaged boys into terrified rabbits. "Tommy," she spoke, low and dangerous, and one of the boys visibly swallowed. "You apologize to these nice ladies, and then _all_ of you are to come _straight home._ Don't a single one of you try to escape, do you hear me? I'll know, you know I will. Answer me!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Tommy and three boys burst out simultaneously. Mrs. Allen huffed.

Then, kind again, a smile in her voice, she told them, "I'm sorry about my boys, Maria, Sarah--you call me again if they don't apologize properly, alright? And you have a lovely day too."

"Thank you Mrs. Allen," Sarah smiled into the phone. "You have a lovely day as well. And we're sorry about this--"

"Oh don't you apologize to me, dear. It's clearly a lesson I should have taught far better," Mrs. Allen interrupted.

"Motherhood is a difficult job," Maria offered sympathetically, and all three took a moment to silently agree on that.

"Alright then, ladies," Mrs. Allen sighed. "You get an apology out of those idiots and then send them on back to me."

"Of course. Good day, Mrs. Allen," Sarah offered, and then, after a moment, hung up and handed the phone back to Maria, who pocketed it half automatically. They both smiled sweetly at the boys.

They practically tripped over themselves in apology, although some of them were more angry than sorry, and all of them outright fled as soon as the words were uttered.

The spent a minute watching them flee, and then their arms curled gently around each other, and they carried on down the road, smiling away their cares. The world wasn't perfect, but it was getting better, and maybe they could help it along in their afterlife, as they hadn't much been able to in life.

"How'd you like your froyo?" Maria murmured.

"I want to try more flavors," Sarah announced decisively, and Maria kissed her perfect, pink-stained mouth.

"We'll try them all," Maria promised on a fond laugh.

"And then we'll try sushi," Sarah grinned.

Well. It was good to have goals.

**Author's Note:**

> For the clothes mentioned within, I wanted a little different response from the somewhat cliched aghast reaction from characters to modern, particularly women's, fashion. Also yes, I imagine Sarah as being chubby, although considering the time she lived in and how she and Steve evidently lived, it's probably not particularly accurate. I'm enjoying making points of the way Sarah and Maria are both alike and unlike their sons.
> 
> Oh and yes, that's totally a magical phone and magic money and they magically knew the kid's name. They're ghosts, I do what I want. Oh and about their ages--it seems to me both women died quite young, so I've mentally put them in the late-20s-to-early-30s range, which you can do with as you like.


End file.
